


Almamuerto

by PeppyBismilk



Series: Swordplay and Seamen: Tales of the High Seas [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Long-Haired Seung-gil Lee, M/M, Short & Sweet, Suspense, Vamparrots, vampirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 08:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21241400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppyBismilk/pseuds/PeppyBismilk
Summary: Sailors don't come back from the Almamuerto, but you can't blame a pirate for being curious.





	Almamuerto

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a little non-canon side story for the Swordplay and Seamen Pirate AU by Songbirdsara and PeppyBismilk, written for YOI Spooky Week 2019, Day 6, Theme A: Creatures of the Night, Vampires. Enjoy!

“Kidnapped?!”

Phichit hung his head. “I don’t know, Kaptain. We woke up this morning and Minami was just _gone_.”

“I found this in his bed!” Guang Hong dropped a tiny red pearl into Yuuri’s open palm. Phichit would have sworn it was a drop of blood except it was solid. 

All the color drained from Yuuri’s face. “Poor Minami-kun…” Eyes downcast, he turned to Sara. “Please send his effects to his family in Hakata. Tell them he died protecting the ship and was buried at sea, as he wished.”

“That’s it?” Phichit spluttered. “We’re not going to try to rescue him?”

Yuuri rolled the pearl in his hand but didn’t look up. 

“Sailors don’t come back from the Almamuerto.”

The funeral left the ship somber and eerily quiet, but Phichit couldn’t stop thinking about the Almamuerto. What if Minami was still alive? They couldn’t just give up on him.

_ SCREE! _

Scraping at the window shot a chill up his spine. He sprang to his feet to investigate, gripping his dagger tight.

Nothing. 

The ship was silent now but the shrill noise still grated at his spine.

A single scratch marred the glass. 

Had someone dragged a blade across the window? Fingernails, perhaps, as keen as his dagger? He combed the ship for clues, wracked his brain for ideas. 

A single red feather fluttered before his nose, drifting down to land at his feet. 

What bird possessed a beak sharp enough to scratch glass? A vamparrot?

Phichit plucked the feather from the deck and ran one finger over its silky plumes. Blood red on brown.

The same color as the pearl.

Phichit set off to find the Almamuerto before the sun rose.

He’d never been much of a navigator but the seas parted and the winds carried him, course held by some invisible tow. 

Helpless but to watch as the ocean steered him to his fate, he found himself dwarfed by a massive black ship with sails of red velvet.

It could only be the Almamuerto. 

Her intricate masts defied logic and physics, whittled into impossible twisting swirls, beckoning Phichit aboard like a finger under his chin, a whisper of _come closer_…

He did.

True to her name, not a soul manned her decks. Did the ship sail herself just as sure as she had brought him here? 

Phichit’s heart quickened. Coming alone—coming at all—had been a mistake. He made to step back but his foot wouldn’t budge. His hands froze so he couldn’t even yank his legs free.

_ SCREE! _

That sound again! Louder, sharper, closer—he convulsed and fell to his knees. The bird? Phichit cast his eyes skyward but the night was too dense.

“Foolish boy.”

Could the bird speak? A human could never sound so horrible, so final.

“If only you’d listened to your Kaptain.”

Cold, worse than the dead of winter, enveloped him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. Only that voice and the night were real. 

Phichit was going to die.

His dagger clattered to the deck, useless. Teeth chattering, lungs freezing with every shallow breath, Phichit accepted his fate.

“Enough, Min-so.”

Warm. Steady.

With just two words, this new voice restarted Phichit’s heart and refilled his veins. 

“Of course,” Min-so taunted, “Seung-gil pities the mutineer.” 

Seung-gil scoffed right next to Phichit’s ear and scooped him up, arms gentle but cold to the touch.

“Unbelievable,” uttered a third voice.

Yet another taunted, “Mercy is weakness.” 

“What do we get out of killing him?” Seung-gil spoke without emotion and carrying Phichit seemed to require no effort at all. They were moving, pushing through the fog. “He’s no one to us.”

“Then find a use for him,” snarled the one called Min-so, “or he dies.” 

“Minami?” Swaddled by soft cloth instead of the void, Phichit remembered his voice and his goal.

“Who is that whelp to you?” Seung-gil’s voice twitched with ire.

Phichit opened his eyes. 

His jaw dropped.

Seung-gil hovered above him—

scarlet eyes, red like that feather and sharp enough to cut glass or pierce Phichit’s heart

dangling locks of night-black hair, so long he could lose himself and never want to return

skin without flaw, warmth, or blood, except those rosy lips, moving

—calm.

“Don’t stare at me.”

“Sorry!” Phichit’s voice faltered. “It’s just that I’ve never seen a vampire before.”

Seung-gil’s eyebrows, thick like his hair, shot up. “How did you know?”

“The fangs sort of give it away.” Phichit reached out to touch one slim, elongated tooth.

“What’s wrong with you?” Seung-gil jerked away. “Don’t touch me there!”

Phichit grinned and sat up to stay close. “Can I touch you somewhere else?” 

“You know I’m a vampire.” Seung-gil lowered his admonishing gaze. “I could hurt you.”

“Then why haven’t you?” Desperate to recapture that glare, Phichit reached for him again.

Seung-gil dropped his voice even lower. “I could turn you.” It was a warning, not an offer.

“Fuck yeah, I want you to turn me!” Phichit presented his neck and those blood red eyes rounded. 

Seung-gil dragged one fingernail down the column of Phichit’s throat, not hard enough to break the skin but still marking his territory. “There’s no turning back.”

His wide pupils belied his hesitant words.

Phichit grabbed Seung-gil by the wrist, pulling his frigid hand to his own beating heart. “I want to go all the way.”

_ thump, thump_  
These would be his last heartbeats.  
_thump, thump_  
Seung-gil bared his exquisite fangs.  
_thump, thump_  
Phichit gasped in ecstasy as Seung-gil b i t.  
_thump, th—_

“DIE!”

Phichit shot upright. He was alone in his cabin, alone in his bed, no sexy vampire Seung-gil in sight. Just Mambo the normal parrot pecking at his hair.

“Damn, I miss him,” Phichit muttered, heart still racing. He rubbed his neck, half-expecting to find blood on his fingers. 

Nothing. 

Just a dream, details slipping away by the moment. He jumped out of bed and scrambled for parchment.

_ Dearest Seung-gil, _

_ Have you ever thought about growing out your hair? _

**Author's Note:**

> You see, Chel was teaching me about Vampirates, and Spooky Week just seemed like the perfect opportunity to write this thirsty little diversion. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and Happy Halloween!


End file.
